The Granddaughter Paradox
by Shobogan
Summary: When Susan meets her grandfather again, everything changes.


Notes: This is a remix of glinda-penquin's The Grandfather Paradox: .

It's been quite a long time since she left her third life behind; she was only on her second regeneration then, her husband long dead and her children long grown. She left a damaged but recovering Earth when she found an obliging ship, and hasn't yet looked back to that time and place.

She spent some time piecing together disparate technology to form a time ship, one the Time Lords couldn't detect, much less call away. It isn't a TARDIS, but she calls it one, for old Time's sake. She even paints it blue, and engraves the word (her word, echoing into ancient history, quite by accident) in to the door. She lived her second life again, with the stability and control that made that sort of life manageable.

She made friends, made enemies, made a difference.

One day, a day that seemed as normal as any other, she felt every other Time Lord fade out of existence, like a galaxy of stars extinguished at once. She refused to wonder how it happened, refused to dwell on the aching hollowness in her chest, refused to grieve for a man she hadn't seen for centuries, who perhaps she was never meant to find again.

She simply continued to move forward, in all her beliefs, and prove that he was not mistaken in his.

She had recently regenerated when she met Bob, a free spirit living on the edges of a severe society. Susan looks a decent age, which is a relief; she still remembers nearing a century and looking like a human teenager to a frustrating portion of the universe. Wise eyes look at home in her mature features, framed by heavy dark curls.

Bob looks a sprite in comparison, with her smooth pale skin, shock of black hair and sparkly cat suits, and it brings a wistful cheer to Susan as they hurtle merrily across the stars.

It's when they're in the 48th century, impeding the ruthless invasion of one of Earth's many colonies, that everything changes.

It's not so strange to see Time travelers on occasion; there are no Time Lords to seize a monopoly on it, after all. When she first sees the young man haphazardly dashing away from high-pitched screams and laser batons, anachronistic technology in hand, she's merely glad for the help. It's not until they've rescued each other, and started planning their rescue of Bob, that she realises what he is.

Their hands grasp, a reassuring gesture often saved for wayward friends, and his double pulse stuns her into silence. He looks at her with his bright wide eyes and they're no longer young at all.

Their minds brush, and suddenly he is the most familiar person in the world. She is shrieking and crying like a child, and he's holding her just as tightly as he once did. A dingy alley of crimson stone becomes one of the most beautiful places in her long memory.

They get captured again, of course, but it doesn't matter; they don't even resist this time. In a cell formed of thick crystal, they hold each other and share centuries of memories, of fear and guilt and loneliness and grief, of triumph ad laughter and joy and love. They speak a dead language, and remember amber skies.

Finally, he is able to apologise, and finally she is able to forgive.

It isn't long until she's teasing him; it is he, now, who looks nothing of his age, no matter how he dresses. Grandfather, she tells him, is hardly appropriate anymore; perhaps she'll call him her little brother. It was only an adopted tradition, anyway.

It's then that he looks at her as he never has; that he tells her she ought to call him his given name. It chains him to nothing, now; it binds him only to her, to the only family he'd trusted to believe in him.

The syllables feel strange and rough on her tongue at first, but then she's smiling and so is he and it's the only thing that makes sense. He calls her by the name his son gave her, and even in his soft high voice, it sounds like home; the home they carried with them from Gallifrey, that they needn't ever run away from.

It's shortly after this that Bob comes to save _them_, having easily given her own captors the slip some time ago. The Doctor (for he is the Doctor to rest of the universe, and ever shall be) approves, and Susan (for she is Susan to the family she's made on her own, trailing into Time and Space) tells him sternly that he's not to try and steal her.

Bob, bemused and amused, simply shrugs at their explanations, telling them they really ought to escape already, please, and so they do. It's quite a blow to the morale of the invaders, and a boost of confidence for the colony. Both Time Lords are confident it will work out for the best, and Bob figures they would know.

Susan will check on them later; for now, they all need a bit of rest and recovery.

She visits a true TARDIS for the first time in almost a thousand years; she wanders through a ship so very changed and yet intimately familiar. She's shocked to find her own room in a dusty corridor, just as she'd left it.

It isn't hers any longer, however; that Time has long passed. She and the Doctor will stay connected, but she isn't his companion, and he accepts it. His wistful smile looks out of place, and her own widens. She hugs him again, and kisses his cheek, and takes Bob's hand. She tells him to find someone to share the universe with, and after a moment he nods, and turns to the console.

It's enough knowing how to find each other, and knowing that they will be welcome.

In the mean time they'll continue their adventures, and they will never again be alone.


End file.
